Chapter 64: Five bishops
He turned his head. Looked directly at Trevor.
"Get married."
Trevor lowered his tablet with a kind of deliberate ease that didn’t match the sudden tightness in his shoulders, the way his posture shifted, like he was already running the numbers in his head and had come to a conclusion he didn’t quite expect.
Lucas didn’t look away. "Well, you wanted a chance. This is it. We can date after. Or make each other’s lives a hell."
Trevor blinked once, and a grin started to form, not surprised, not shocked, but entertained in that deeply dangerous way only Trevor could be. He traced his white teeth with his tongue, slow and deliberate, while his gaze settled on Lucas with a raised brow and a glint of something sharp and deeply amused in those violet eyes.
Serathine sat forward, her hands clenched in front of her as if she could still pull the conversation back before it completely left the bounds of sanity. "Lucas, this is a reaction. You’re angry, cornered; this is you trying to survive, not commitment."
"Of course it’s survival," Lucas said flatly. "You think the rest of this isn’t?"
Trevor leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight as if even the furniture was bracing for impact. He looked too calm for what was happening.
"Let’s do it," he said, tone smooth and maddeningly unshaken. "I’m sure there’s some heirloom ring buried in one of our family vaults that’s perfect for you. Or I can commission a custom one—your call."
He glanced at Lucas, that grin still lingering. "That is, if my bride has the patience to wait for it and not elope now."
"I thought in an hour," Lucas replied with a shrug, utterly unbothered. "I prefer custom-made. I don’t trust the taste of dead people."
Trevor laughed softly. "Long enough."